


Hearing her silences.

by Moon_calvary



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Gen, Silence is a part of her, Victoria will always be the family's baby, her family loves her, she doesn't need to say anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-04-16 04:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14157096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_calvary/pseuds/Moon_calvary
Summary: Victoria has always been the quietest. But her silence speaks for her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ghostofawarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostofawarrior/gifts), [Raefever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raefever/gifts).



She didn’t like it. Not a bit.

It was no secret to anyone that of all the deceased Rivera, Victoria was the one who least accepted Hector in the family. Everyone knew it was going to happen, but that didn’t avoid Mamá Imelda’s scolding. And Rosita didn’t like it.

It was true that she and her beloved niece could seem opposite poles; where Rosita was short and chubby, Victoria was tall and thin; Rosita was positive, cheerful and always found pleasure in interacting with other people; while Victoria was serious, calculating, practicing and preferred the company of her books to another human being’s. 

And yet, they were so similar at the same time. Rosita enjoyed the silence despite her sociable nature, which is why she enjoyed her time in the garden so much, where she could take care of her plants and simply relax in silence. It was not strange that this activity was often joined by her niece. Contrary to what most would believe, Victoria had a good hand for gardening, although she preferred to simply sit with a book in hand on the edge of the central fountain while her aunt got her hands dirty.

Nor was it unusual that Victoria often joined her at some point while cooking, or that they would sit together when they worked in the shop, making occasional observations of each other's work.

Rosita was used to her niece’s silent presence, to the point where she could classify her quiet behaviors and recognize when she was concentrated, angry, disappointed or sad. Rosita knew her  _ bebita  _ better than anyone.

And that's why she didn’t like the current situation. Mamá Imelda was giving her the same monologue about how she should try to accept Hector's presence, while Victoria just looked down in embarrassment. Or at least that's what others might think; but Rosita knew that look well; it was not shame, it was sadness and anger. Rage against herself for not being able to raise her voice and tell her part of the story.

It was true that Hector was working hard to fit into the Rivera routine, and was even learning to make shoes to be able to join the family business. Everyone could see his desire to belong to them and his desire to recover the lost years.

But apparently nobody remembered the time when a little girl walked barefoot through the dark corridor to reach her aunt's room in fear of the monsters in her room. No one remembered the girl crying silently in her room after receiving a scolding.

Nobody remembered the little girl who tried to be brave when she got hurt, but in whose eyes her true pain and fear were reflected. The girl who at night wept with fear until she fell asleep in her aunt's arms when her mother got hurt.

Yes, Hector was trying, but couldn’t anyone see that Victoria did too? The young woman was just having a difficult time. After all, Oscar and Felipe knew music at some early stage of their lives, just like Julio and herself. Victoria did not, she was born, grew up and died under the silence and hatred towards music. Since an early age she learned to hate a man she never knew, to never mention his existence or ask about him.

She learned to just sit down and follow Mamá Imelda's instructions, like a soldier waiting for her commander's orders in the battlefield.

And now, everything she knew, everything she believed in, was being taken from her. Her entire world had turned upside down, how did they expect her to simply smile and put aside the ideals she had lived with for years, in a couple of months?

It wasn't fair. Rosita listened sometimes when Julio approached to try to " _ ablandarle el coco _ " to his daughter in the afternoon, or the looks with sympathy that the twins gave her after a scolding like this, even Hector had made an effort to give her space to try to minimize such scolding. But she knew that the worst thing for her  _ niña  _ was when Mamá Imelda looked at her with disapproval, she knew that with that only settled the insecurities that Victoria had been carrying with her since she was alive.

It was not that the head of the family was cruel to her granddaughter, of course not, Mamá Imelda loved Victoria as she loved the rest of her family. It was simply that Victoria had always been afraid of being a disappointment to everyone, especially to the woman she admired so much.

\- Couldn’t you at least try?

Rosita looked up. It was not common for something to take her to her limits, or to face the frightening matriarch of the family of her own free will; but seeing her bebita with her head down and with a look Rosita knew quite well, she couldn’t help it.

-Mamá Imelda, I think that was enough- she said as she approached both women. As soon as the words came out of her mouth she regretted it, but she couldn’t back down. Not now.

She ignored the amazed expressions of her brother and the twins and the matriarch's outraged gaze as she put a hand on Victoria's shoulder.

\- Mija, why don’t you go to help me in the garden? There are some geraniums that can not be tamed

Victoria looked at her with a clear question in her eyes, “what are you doing?”, but Rosita reassured her with a motherly smile. Victoria looked between her aunt and her grandmother, and deciding that it was worth taking the exit her aunt had just offered, got up and walked quickly to the back garden.

Rosita said nothing, waiting for the clear question she knew would come from Mamá Imelda's mouth.

-What was that? - Asked the matriarch, putting her hands on her hips

-I just ... I think it's better to give her a break-

-Sorry?-

-This has also been difficult for her, don’t you think? -

-Rosita ... - Julio spoke, but he was not heard.

-All her life she was told to hate music, she was taught to hate a man she never knew. She never asked about him for fear of making you mad, Mamá Imelda ... and now it is expected that in a few months she will throw all that away and just smile and start calling him grandfather? Don’t you think it's too much for her?- Rosita looked shyly at the matriarch.

What if she  _ se pasó de la raya _ ? Not only would it get her into trouble, it could also make things worse for Victoria.

Mamá Imelda just looked at her for a long moment, before looking at the door through which her granddaughter had left.

\- ... I think you're right- she said at last -I haven’t been fair to her-

\- Maybe you should let her calm down for a moment, and let her adapt to her rhythm - suggested Rosita.

Mamá Imelda just looked at her and nodded before going back to work. Nobody said anything while they returned to their jobs. The tension was still palpable, but Rosita had a girl to comfort and could not waste any more time.

When she went to the garden there were no traces of Victoria, but again, no one knew her  _ niña  _ as well as she did. The skeleton of wide bones walked to the far corner of the garden, where there was a small shed where the tools were stored. It was too small for anyone to fit squarely in, but there was a gap between the fence and the back wall of it that easily accommodated two people.

As expected, Victoria was sitting there with her back against the wood of the shed. The woman in glasses looked at her with a plea in her eyes that made Rosita fall automatically to her knees to sit next to her.

Victoria waited for her to get comfortable before leaning her head on her aunt's shoulder. She felt a pair of arms that once were big and fluffy, but had not lost their soothing touch, even decades after being just bones.

Neither of them said anything, but it was not necessary; after all, Victoria knew that her cry for help had been heard and all her insecurities were being lovingly cared for at that precise moment.

Rosita turned her head to plant a small kiss on the forehead of her niece, because, no matter how much time passed, at what age they had both died or how much of an adult woman Victoria was, for Rosita she will always be the little girl who sat on her lap telling numbers with her while they were making inventories, the one who judged her with her eyes every time Rosita said an apparent foolishness, but who in the end enjoyed the crazy stories of her aunt, who always seemed willing to absorb everything that others could teach her.

Victoria smiled a little at the gesture and clung more to her aunt's bony hips.

By the time they re-entered it had already gotten dark, and if someone found it strange that Aunt and niece shared a room that night, nobody said anything.

Rosita smiled when Victoria was finally asleep in her arms. Skeletons do not cry, but the feeling was the same, heavy and exhausting. She looked at her and for a moment she saw again a 5-year-old girl who had woken up with nightmares, but who was too ashamed to ask for help from her parents, so she chose to go to her aunt. As in those days, Victoria had fallen asleep with her glasses and her  _ chongo _ ; and although Rosita knew that this time she had no skin to hurt herself, she carefully removed her glasses and undid her top knot before passing her bony fingers through her niece's hair.

Victoria sighed a little in her sleep and stuck closer to her aunt. The other woman's smile widened.

There was still no one, in this world or in the one of the living, who knew her  _ bebita  _ better than she did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco learned that silence was a part of Victoria.

Socorro Rivera was not a woman who surrendered easily.

Years of waiting by the window when she was a child hoping that her father would return had made her strong. She had learned to dance behind her family's back, had learned to tell her twin uncles apart and had even sneaked off to dance with Julio.

But nothing had prepared her for her greatest challenge: motherhood.

When she learned that she was pregnant, she had made a huge uproar. She ran to kiss Julio, to celebrate with Rosita, to jump with her uncles and hug her mother.

For months she dreamed with the face of her _niña_ while caressing her belly distractedly, without letting the lack of sudden movements worry her; maybe her baby was just sleeping.

 

And then the great day arrived. The doctor congratulated her as she placed in her arms her precious little girl, her little Victoria. Her skin was tanned like the rest of the family, her hair was black as the night and her cheeks were plump and flushed. So small and fragile.

 

From the first days of her birth, Victoria proved to be a quiet and peaceful baby, just as she had been since she was in Coco’s womb. Of course that didn’t stop Rosita and the twins from pampering her and _apapacharla_ whenever they had the chance.

And Victoria loved it. The baby followed the sound of her mother's voice and her aunt's laughter. She liked it when Oscar and Felipe took turns talking to her or when her father spoke to her. Even Imelda's scolding was the cause of Victoria’s little smile.

Victoria loved the sounds around her, but she did not have her own. They rarely heard her small and tangled vocalizations and even her crying was soft, barely more than a couple of pouts and grunts.

 -She’s small- Imelda said one day –gave her time-

-She’s 5 months old mom- Coco argued -she should make more sounds. It's still hard to know when she's hungry! -

-Rosita doesn’t seem to have any problem with it- Imelda said while sewing two pieces of leather.

Coco looked at her for a moment.

-It's true ... excuse me mom, I have to talk to my sister-in-law- she said before leaving the workshop.

 

Upon entering the kitchen, she couldn’t help but smile when she heard Rosita talk to the baby, who only saw her from her baby carrier. However, looking closer, Coco realized that her _bebita_ was actually listening.

While Rosita was cutting the meat, Victoria tilted her tiny head, as if telling her aunt that she didn’t understand the word she had just used. Coco spent the next 20 minutes listening to her sister-in-law and looking at her daughter. She realized that, even if she didn’t say anything, Victoria could easily hold a conversation with Rosita. Or well, as much as a 5 month old baby could.

 

From that day, Coco paid more attention to her daughter's movements and learning each meaning behind her gestures and silences.

By the time Victoria was one year old, Coco had learned to read her as if she were a book. Of course, sometimes she was still confused, but she was progressing.

 

At 3, she could see the excitement in Victoria's eyes when they told her she would be an older sister. And when Elena was born, she could see the love she felt and her desire to protect her, for the careful and tender manner with which Victoria caressed the cheeks of her new sister.

 

At 7, Coco witnessed the fear of her eldest daughter. While Elena wept in tears when her mother got hurt, Victoria took it more calmly. But Coco looked into her eyes and knew that even if she did not say it, Victoria was as terrified as her sister, maybe more.

 

When her mother died, she saw how her family gathered to mourn the loss of the matriarch. Oscar and Felipe were disconsolate at the loss of their sister, Franco tried with all his effort to comfort Elena, as Julio did with her. Even Rosita mourned the departure of the woman who had opened the doors of her house and had welcomed her into her family.

But there was someone who did not make a sound during the whole funeral.

Victoria remained in respectful silence while her grandmother was veiled and buried. She didn’t say anything when people came to give her their condolences just like they did to the rest of the family. No sound came out of her when Elena, shattered, accused her of being insensitive and cold.

But Coco knew better. She saw it in the crystalline eyes of her daughter. In the way she dragged her feet and her movements were slightly slower. Victoria was just as devastated by Imelda's death as the rest of the family.

But letting someone listen to her was not in her silent nature.

 

Nor did she weep the death of the twins; at least not in public. Coco knew that her eldest daughter cried silently at night, when there was no one to see her.

 

When Berto was born, the entire family celebrated and congratulated Elena and Franco. They took turns to take him in their arms and talk to him. But when it was her turn, Victoria just looked at him, without saying anything, "he's a baby, he doesn’t understand what I say anyway," she had said. But Coco and Elena could see that the pride in her eyes betrayed her.

 

The only time Coco heard her daughter sobbing at night was when Rosita passed away. She was walking to her room when she heard the faint sound coming out of Victoria's room and she felt her heart breaking. She knew that her daughter had a close relationship with her aunt, perhaps even more than with her.

 

 

 ______________________________________________________________

 

Socorro Rivera was familiar with the silence of her eldest daughter. Victoria was never someone that liked to talk. She had become accustomed to her silent presence. The way she kept silent while reading, or when she listened to her nephews tell her about their adventures at school. To her way of making shoes in silence while concentrating, to the silence of her room. She had learned many years ago that silence was part of Victoria.

Victoria's silence was always full of meaning.

But now, as she watched her _niña_ being lowered to earth, she realized that Victoria was part of the silence now. Coco realized that this kind of silence was empty. Not tied to the presence of her daughter, but to her absence. And she knew it was a silence she would never get used to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar and Felipe learn about Victoria's "banshee's silence"

It was no secret to anyone that Oscar and Felipe Rivera were first-class pranksters. From childhood, both would devise crazy plans to torment their little sister and every poor soul that crossed in their way.

Even when they were grown men and helping their sister in the family business and raising their beloved niece Coco, every now and then a shoe would be full of paint or her little niece with mud up to her knees. No matter how hard they tried, no one could overcome the ingenuity of that pair.

 

Until Coco had her first daughter.

 

When Victoria was born, Oscar and Felipe were delighted with the beauty of the little baby, and they were sure that, just like they did with Coco, they would take care of her as much as possible. Both took turns to carry her and make funny faces, delighted that she smiled when they did.

It was true that little Victoria was not a very loud baby, but none of the twins cared. They loved their _niña_ as she was, even if it meant fighting over who should change her diaper.

 

However, as Victoria grew older, the twins noticed that she was a very astute girl, too much for her age; One day, they witnessed how, for the first time, their fearsome sister was defeated ... by a 3-year-old girl.

 

Imelda had told her that she couldn’t take more cookies because she would stain her hands and would mess up the whole house, nor could she come to the counter because then she’d be in trouble. So Victoria took Rosita's tongs and gloves, climbed into a chair and began to grab the cookies, without approaching the counter or getting her hands dirty. Coco smiled to herself, proud of her child. It was a checkmate. Imelda could not scold her because technically she didn’t break the rules.

-You have to admit it sister- said Felipe

-She conquered the system- Oscar finished

-Shut up, you two!- Imelda growled, apparently angry, although inside she was amazed by her granddaughter's cunning.

 

And that was just the beginning.

 

When Rosita told her that she couldn’t enter the kitchen because she and Coco were cooking and didn’t want her to eat all the fruit, Victoria stopped at the door, without entering, and used one of her father's ropes to pull the apples and eat.

 

When Coco told her that she couldn’t put a foot out, and couldn’t paint inside either, Victoria decided to lie on the floor with her feet inside the house and the rest of her body outside. Needless to say, it was a beautiful drawing.

 

When Julio asked her to wash the dishes, Victoria did it. She washed the dishes and went out to play. And Rosita had to stop herself from laughing when she saw her brother's face when he discovered that everything else was dirty. Only the plates were clean.

 

Oscar and Felipe knew that they had a brilliant grandniece, and every occurrence of the little girl brought a smile to their faces. She was cute, tender, intelligent and serious.

 

But nobody was prepared for the wave of coincidences that came later.

 

One day, while Felipe was working on a pair of shoes, he noticed that one of them was filled with honey and his workplace was full of ants. When his twin came in and saw the situation, he couldn’t help but laugh.

-Oscar!! Did you do this?! -Felipe shouted angrily

-No, but whoever did it is a genius- he answered with a laugh as Felipe grunted.

 

Two days later, Oscar found his toolbox full of detergent while Felipe laughed behind him.

-you did it?!-

-No, but whoever it was, avenged me- Felipe answered with a laugh.

Neither of them paid attention to the girl with glasses sitting in the corner playing with a doll in silence.

 

A few weeks later, Rosita made cupcakes for the shoe store's anniversary, but when she bit one, she had to spit it out.

-what the?!-

-there’s something wrong? - Coco asked entering the kitchen

-the cupcakes, they are horrible! - Rosita answered

-oh come on, you're the best cook in the family, they can’t be so bad-

-Taste them yourself-

Coco did it and like Rosita, she ended up spitting.

-What?-

-There you are! - Imelda exclaimed, entering and giving Rosita a furious look

-Mamá Imelda? – She replied nervous

-Can you explain to me why the sugar and the salt are switched? My coffee is ruined! -

-What? - Rosita asked. Now the taste of the cupcakes made sense.

The twins, who were in the dining room painting with Victoria and Elena, saw how the three women tried to find out who was to blame.

-Did you do it? - Felipe whispered

-Nope. Did you? - Oscar answered

-No-

Neither of them saw the corners of Victoria's mouth rise a little, almost imperceptible.

 

 

The twins were famous for their jokes, but when they began to be the target of them too, the rest of the family realized that they couldn’t be responsible, none would betray the other. It seemed that someone had finally defeated them. And neither of them liked it.

 

One afternoon, after finding the shoes that the prankster had hidden (all from the left foot), Oscar and Felipe sat down to analyze the situation. They couldn’t believe that someone was defeating them at their own game.

-There must be something we are not seeing- said Oscar

\- Maybe something that all the jokes have in common? - Felipe answered

-yes! ... but none seems to connect with the other-

-mmmm ... who was nearby when the chair broke? - Felipe asked

-You, me, Julio and Victoria-

-and when the tools were glued? -

-You, me, Imelda and Victoria-

-and this morning, when the shoes disappeared? -

-Everybody but Coco-

-Well, we know it wasn’t us, Coco and Julio would never do something like that and Imelda is always busy-

-That leaves us with ... -

They both looked at each other in amazement when the response hit them. Victoria.

It made sense, because the girl always seemed to be present to see the result of the jokes, and the silence that surrounded her seemed, in some way, different from the usual. Like the calm before the storm.

 

_Quién la viera tan carita de ángel_

From that moment, when one of the two noticed that Victoria was silent, with one of the corners of her mouth slightly up, they knew that something was going to happen. Eventually there seemed to be an agreement between the three: they wouldn’t prank the girl and she wouldn’t prank them, they even pranked the family together. And none betrayed the other.

When Victoria grew up, Oscar and Felipe assumed that she had left that phase behind, but when Oscar's glasses disappeared mysteriously, they realized how wrong they were. Even Franco and Elena's children were victims of innocent but fun jokes.

And Victoria's stoic and rigid attitude made her immune to suspicion.

 

When Rosita came to the world of the dead, she told them that since their deaths, no one had fallen victim to any joke, so everyone assumed that in the end, the culprits were always the twins.

Neither of them cared that the family blamed them, but both of them, who knew about Victoria's malicious vein, felt their hearts breaking. Their _niña_ had stopped making jokes from the moment she lost her partners in crime.

 

 

 

 

Oscar and Felipe Rivera were known for being the buffoons of the family and prankster experts. But they were also the only ones who knew about Victoria's "banshee silence".

That's why, when their brother-in-law, Hector Rivera, stepped in the room with his hat glued to his foot and two of his ribs tangled in the strings of his guitar, none of the twins had to look up to know that Victoria was sitting on the corner, in silence, and that she had the corner of her mouth slightly up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gloria Rivera always admired her aunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard to write because i kept crying for my aunt, so excuse me if there are any mistakes.

If someone had ask her what her greatest regret was, Gloria Rivera would not know how to answer them. Not because she didn’t know, actually she had it clearly in her mind. But she doubted they would understand it.

Since she has memory, Gloria always had the support of her family for everything, from her older brother Berto, her grandmother Coco and of course her parents Elena and Franco. She had always what she needed. Well, almost always.

 

Since childhood, she learned how to behave with the people around her. With Mamá she had to behave well if she didn’t want the _chancla_ near her face, but still she knew she adored her. With papá, it was easier, since she was his only daughter, his girl. Abuelita and abuelito would spoil her with whatever she wanted, although they could also be strict. With Berto, they used to fight for anything one moment and the next be hugging as if their life depended on it.

But there was a person with whom Gloria was not sure how to act: Tia Victoria.

 

Her aunt was always a mysterious figure to her. Victoria was serious, calculating, and didn’t like to waste her time with nonsense; even if she did not say anything, her mere presence imposed respect on Gloria. Tia Victoria had no children and never seemed to want to play with her nephews.

Berto never cared about it, saying that she was a boring woman anyway, but Gloria disagreed. The silent presence of her aunt always attracted her attention, it seemed incredible how someone could be so serious and yet so ... perfect.

The way Victoria made the food when it was her turn, or how she arranged her books for alphabet or color, the way she swept the room or chose the best tomatoes, and the silent way she made beautiful huaraches. Everything was done with such grace, delicacy and precision that Gloria sometimes wondered if her aunt was human.

 

But perhaps what attracted her the most was the way her hands moved when she combed her hair. Often, Gloria would stand in the doorway of Victoria's room to watch as her aunt brushed her long hair slowly but with a firm hand. Gloria always thought she looked like an old queen with her hair down and sitting so demurely in front of the mirror. She admired the way Victoria moved her hands almost mechanically to form and tie her high knot.

Even when she was already an adult, Gloria wondered how her aunt managed to do it. She had tried it herself for years, but it never worked.

 

Maybe Gloria never knew how to behave in her aunt's imposing presence, but Victoria always seemed to know what to do in hers. When she felt bad, her aunt was always the first to notice, even before mom; Victoria would prepare her favorite dish, without saying a word. Or when she had problems with her homework, the stoic woman would stand in front of her, looking casual, but somehow doing things that would help Gloria understand.

 

In her memory it was firmly taxed one particular afternoon.

 

Gloria was never quite popular at school, but she had good friends. Or so she thought. Until one of them had pushed her up the stairs and made her roll, making her the _hazme reír_ at the whole school for weeks.

 

Gloria didn’t want to tell her parents because she didn’t want them to go to school to make a scandal; her grandparents were out of the question because she knew they would try to hold her and comfort her, and she did not want that. Berto might be a good option, but he was sick and she did not want to bother him. So she only had one option left.

She had never entered her aunt's room without having a message for her, but she had already knocked on the door so there was no turning back. As expected, there was no sound inside, but her aunt's footsteps were a pretty solid response and Gloria had to swallow when the door opened.

Victoria raised an eyebrow when she saw her, waiting for the girl to speak; when she didn’t, she knew something was wrong. Without saying a word, she stepped aside to let her enter. Gloria did it nervously.

At first she did not know what to do, but Victoria directed her to the bed and once she was seated in front of her, Gloria found that it was not so difficult to let it all go when the other person listened intently and without interrupting.

 

She spent the next 30 minutes telling her aunt everything that had happened. Not once she was interrupted by a question or an "ay _mija_ ". By the time she finished, she was amazed to discover that the pressure in her chest had disappeared and that, suddenly, the situation no longer seemed embarrassing, but funny.

From then on, Gloria would go to her aunt when she had a problem, and even though the older woman almost never spoke, the girl would find more than a single answer in Victoria's silence. It was weird, because she had tried to talk to herself, believing that silence was the answer, but it had not worked.

 

Her aunt’s silence had something in particular, and she didn’t know what it was.

Sometimes, she did not even have to talk, the simple act of sitting next to Victoria helping her with household chores or having a coke with her was more than enough to calm her down and allow her think correctly.

 

Gloria was grateful for that strange but important relationship. She had always admired her aunt. Who was going to tell her that she would lose her too soon?

 

Victoria Rivera's funeral had been a mix of emotions for everyone. Some were surprised, others sad and others in denial.

For Gloria, the only thought that crossed her mind was a simple "why?"

Why her? Why so soon? Why when she needed her the most? She didn’t understand how someone expected her to replace the silent woman she learnt to appreciate so much, with a cold stone. She was only 10 years old, she needed her aunt! She WANTED her aunt!

 

For the first time in her short life, Gloria did not find the answer in Victoria's silence.

 

Over the years, Gloria grew up to be a vivacious and cheerful woman, who loved her family and cared for her nephews as if they were her own children; the twins Manny and Benny almost never left her side, and as her niece Rosa grew, Gloria could distinguish a bit of a painful but comfortingly familiar figure in her.

 

_____________________________________________________________

 

Gloria left the hacienda behind as she walked through the plaza with a bouquet of carnations in one hand and two cokes in the other. She responded to the greetings of the people who knew her with a respectful nod and quietly walked to the place that had become a refuge for her.

\- _Tita_ , I'm sorry I'm late, "she said softly. In her mind she could see her aunt's disapproving look for the pet name and smiled.

She left the flowers and one of the glass bottles leaning against the grave and traced the name of her late aunt with the tips of her fingers.

She spent the next 30 minutes talking to Victoria about many things, how things were in the workshop, or that she still couldn’t wear her hair in the same way she did, and how the children were doing; all while drinking her own coke.

Maybe her aunt Victoria was no longer physically present, but her silence always accompanied Gloria, no matter what.

 

 

If someone had ask her what her greatest regret was, Gloria Rivera wouldn’t know how to answer. Not because she didn’t know, but because she doubted they would understand: that it took her so long to learn to listen to silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want my Tita now TT-TT


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julio always knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't gave a father, so i don't know how father/daughter relationships work. Sorry if i got it wrong.

Julio knew it. From the first moment.

When his beloved Coco told him that he was going to be a dad, Julio knew immediately that he would do everything possible to give everything to his baby, what it would need and what it would not. And when they were told that she would be a girl, his heart seemed to have wings.

He knew that he was not going to fail as his own father failed him and Rosita, much less abandon her as did the father of his beloved Coco. No sir, Julio would stay by their side and watch his little girl grow, he would always be there for her.

When his girl was born and he took her in his arms for the first time, Julio knew that Victoria was fragile and delicate, that he had to take care of her and protect her because she was going to need him to be strong for her.

 

When she turned 1 and started walking, Julio knew that his girl would definitely inherit the character of her grandmother. The little girl stumbled and clumsy steps while staggering clinging with her tiny hand to the wall, leaving handprints that Julio thought were the most beautiful art.

Even so, the little girl did not want help. Whenever Rosita or Coco approached to help her, Victoria let out a small grunt, as if wanting to make it clear that she could do it alone. When he saw her, Julio knew, that in the next step she was going to fall, so he was ready to catch her when it happened.

 

When Elena was born, Julio knew that Victoria would be a wonderful big sister; he saw it in his girl's eyes when they showed her her newborn sister. He also knew that their relationship would be strong and nothing could break it, no matter how many times they fought.

At 5 he knew that his girl was brilliant and clever. Of course he knew it was Victoria who made jokes to the family and not Oscar and Felipe. But why take the fun out of his princess when he could see her enjoying it and even give a spoonful of their own medicine to the twins?

 

Julio knew something was wrong with Victoria when the child arrived with a bloody knee after stumbling on the way home from school. He sat her on his work bench and, while she was acting brave, began to clean the wound. It did not stop bleeding. After a few minutes, Victoria began to break.

-papá? – She asked worried -I am going to be okay? -

-Yes, princess, you'll be fine- he said, although he was just as worried as she was.

In the end he managed to stop the bleeding in a couple of minutes and Victoria was calm again.

However, Julio noticed that every time his eldest daughter scraped or cut, it took a little longer to close than when it was Elena.

At 7 he witnessed the strength of his eldest daughter. When his beloved Coco fell and hurt herself, he could see the terror in Victoria's eyes as she looked at her younger sister crying in her mother's arms; and Julio knew it was a matter of time before the girl with glasses joined them.

 

At 10, when Victoria fell back into bed with temperature, Julio knew it was not a fever like the previous ones. This time it was more intense, more dangerous and more painful. His princess could not even sit on her own to eat the soup Rosita had prepared for her and needed to be carried to the bathroom. Even so, Julio knew she would be fine.

 

He knew that Victoria's favorite days were the rainy ones. She loved the smell of the wet earth and the slight cold it made. She liked to sit by any window and read until mamá Imelda or someone else told her it was enough reading for the day.

 

He knew that his eldest daughter felt immense pride in the huaraches she made, since no one in the family, not even the feared and admired matriarch, could make them like her. Victoria had decided to take a different route to the rest in terms of creating shoes. Instead of making all the different types of shoes, she decided to choose only one and specialize in it. And Julio knew that they would be the huaraches, since, although they could seem simpler, they were in fact much more complicated to make than a boot or a heel.

The tangled designs and fine pieces of leather made them much more laborious and slower to make, but Victoria had nimble hands that moved them with precision and speed to make the most beautiful huaraches of all Santa Cecilia. In a way, they resembled her. Simple and beautiful in appearance, but actually complicated and hard to understand.

 

When his sister died, Julio knew that the only person whose heart would be more broken than his was Victoria. His older sister always seemed to understand her better than anyone else. When she left, sleeping in her bed on a warm summer afternoon, with her unforgettable smile on her face, Julio knew that for the first time since her grandmother's death, Victoria would cry until she fell asleep, hoping that everything would be a dream.

 

Julio knew that his oldest daughter would never marry, nor would she have children. He knew she would have liked it, seen her children grow up and play with their cousins, listen to her sister and father warn her future husband that they would not hesitate to hurt him if he does something to her, and grow old with a family that loved her. He would also have loved to surround himself with more grandchildren and take them by the hand to school as he does with Berto, Gloria and Enrique.

But he also knew it would never happen. That his little girl was running out of time.

 

When he saw her lying in bed, with a fever as strong, painful and dangerous as she had had as a child, he knew it would be different. That this time no amount of soup or wet and cold handkerchiefs on her forehead would help her.

Julio knew it would be the last fever, he was going to lose her. And, looking at the tearful eyes of his princess, he knew that she knew it too.

 

Victoria left on one of her favorite days, rainy, cloudy and cold. When he saw the cold, grey box that contained his daughter's body, while holding his inconsolable wife, he knew that nothing would be the same again. 

The silence in the workshop was deafening, very different from his daughter’s, her books soon filled with dust because no one dared to touch them and Elena had closed her room. Coco began to lose her composure little by little, losing her father when she was little, her mother a few years ago, the uncles who took care of her and helped her meet her husband, the woman she loved as a sister and now her baby girl, were breaking her.

 

And Julio was not better.

He often wondered what things would have been like if they had not lost her so young. He knew that Victoria would have taken the place as head of the family and that she would have done it excellently. But would she have married? Would she have had children? And if so, how many would have been? How would she have called them? Maybe after her grandmother and aunt. Would motherhood have changed her? Had she remained the same silent, demure woman he loved so much? He knew that her daughter would undoubtedly have aged with grace and beauty, but who would Victoria Rivera have been today?

And what's on the other side? Would his daughter be happy in those moments? Would she be taking care of the family from beyond? Was she happily in the company of her grandmother, aunt, and uncles? Would she be resting finally without sicknesses? How many pages of her diary would be stained with ink and not empty? Maybe she missed them as much as they did to her. Would she think of him with the same love and nostalgia with which he thought of her?

 

________________________________

 

10 years had passed since he lost his princess, and a few days before they became 11, Julio kissed his grandchildren on the head, gave a big hug to his daughter, kissed his beloved wife with love and toured the places of the hacienda that happiest memories brought him. His old workbench now occupied by his son-in-law Franco, the corner of the patio where _piñatas_ used to hang for parties, the hall in which Elena had learned to walk, the pot his sister used to make tamales.

Until finally he found himself sitting in his _silla de mimbre_ , looking out the window. It was a rainy day. For a moment he could see the beautiful and warm figure of his daughter reading silently while the drops hit the glass.

Julio smiled when the vision returned his gaze and a small but sweet smile adorned the lips of the young woman. He always knew that his girl would come back for him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imelda loves her niña

From the moment it became evident that her husband would never return, Imelda Rivera knew that she must protect her family. Her brothers had always followed her orders, and her precious daughter needed her to be strong for her.

But nobody could be strong for her. Oscar and Felipe were lost without her guide and Coco was too sweet for her own good.

Imelda often had to swallow the lump in her throat and ignore the tightness in her chest as she watched her little girl grow up so fast. Between learning to make shoes, pay debts, feed her family, run a family business, do housework and her serious nature, Imelda rarely had time to play with her daughter.

That's why it took her by surprise when her baby, followed by her shy husband (she had to admit that the fact that Julio fears her gave her a little pleasure), gave her the news.

In a way she must have known that something was going to happen because her brothers were on time at dinner time; Julio was closer to Coco than usual and Rosita was quiet and more nervous around Imelda than usual.

 

\- Mom? - Coco said, nervously

-yes?-

-Would it bother you if Julio and I brought someone else to live with us?-

-Great, another mouth to feed! - Imelda answered, making a mental list of who of the friends of the young couple could have been left homeless now

-It didn't bother you when Lucia lived with us- Oscar intervened

-Because she only stayed two weeks- Imelda said

\- ... What do you think about children? - Coco asked

\- What do I think of what? Children are noisy and troublesome- Imelda answered, beginning to get angry. Coco wanted to bring a friend with their children? Too many mouths to feed.

-Not if their family educates them- said Coco

Imelda simply nodded, not wanting to get into an argument with her daughter. The matriarch was so focused on her plate of vegetables that she did not notice the nervous but excited looks the rest gave each other.

Coco got up and hugged her suddenly, surprising Imelda, before giving her a paper.

It was a postcard that she should have taken from a store, but what caught her attention was the fact that the image on the postcard was of a pair of worsted shoes, and behind, a simple line scribbled with the letter of her daughter. A line that changed Imelda's life:

_You will be a grandmother._

 

 

 

Imelda Rivera had only had a nervous breakdown three times: when she went into labor, when her husband left, and now, sitting in the living room of her own home while waiting for the doctor to leave her daughter's room and let her know her granddaughter.

It had been nine months of tension for her; she often wondered if she was going to be a good grandmother or would be one of those bitter ones that the grandchildren did not even approach.

When the doctor left, the whole family rushed to enter the room, and Imelda had to pause when she saw the image of her daughter holding a small bundle in her arms with love.

Coco smiled as she introduced the little miracle to everyone and, of course, the first one to carry her was the disoriented grandmother.

Imelda looked closely at the tender and graceful features of her granddaughter, her little Victoria. She had her nose and her hair; her skin was slightly lighter than the rest of the family, but it was understandable since she had just been born. The little girl growled and moved in her arms before opening her huge eyes and looking for the first time at the world to which she now belonged.

The first thing she saw was her grandmother's face.

 

 

Imelda was used to doing things on her own and in her own way, without anyone questioning her. However, she soon realized that this was of little interest to a 6-month-old baby. Victoria would demand her attention on the basis of grunts and Imelda knew that she should attend to her at that moment. It was not about what Imelda ordered, but about what Victoria wanted.

And in a way it was refreshing for her. She was used to everyone doing what she said when she said it, but having someone who was above her power was a welcome change in routine. And a baby was the one who dared to do what no one else in the family would do. She laughed to herself at the irony.

 

 

 

-GET OUT OF HERE!!!-

The matriarch's furious shout was heard throughout the hacienda’s living room while the twins were running out from the place, laughing. Nobody asked anything, everyone knew that it was better not to intervene when the _chancla_ was involved.

Imelda sighed and closed the door of her room before returning to her desk, taking the needle and going back to work. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t making shoes.

Usually, Coco and Rosita were responsible for mending clothes or sewing any other fabric that required it. But she wanted to do something special for a certain wobbly little person who clung to the walls without any help from anyone. She still found it funny how little Victoria seemed to want to be independent, even though she was still wearing diapers.

Victoria had been sick recently and her normally vivacious eyes were muted. Everyone had tried to cheer her up but nothing seemed to work; not even Oscar and Felipe’s puppets, and Victoria loved them!!

When she made a delivery near the toy store, Imelda saw a small brown teddy bear in the case and immediately thought of her granddaughter. A teddy bear seemed like a good idea. However, Imelda knew that the material of the teddy bears could be a great carrier of germs and many children came and went every day from that store, she couldn’t expose Victoria. So she decided to make one herself with cloth and rags. Victoria’s old blanket would be a good choice.

 

Imelda had been embraced by her daughter on numerous occasions, but returning to feel a couple little arms almost three times smaller around her neck was undoubtedly one of the best sensations of her life.

Victoria loved the little bear her grandmother had made with the pieces of her old blanket. The girl loved that blanket, but a particular accident with the washing machine had destroyed it, leaving the little girl disconsolate and crying for hours. Now she could have it back and in the form of a bear.

 

 

 

For years she had learned to control her emotions so that others would not notice; even her older brothers could seldom know when something bothered her. That's why she didn’t understand how a 3-year-old girl who still used pacifier and carried the bear that her grandmother had made everywhere, could know when she needed company or distraction.

Imelda tried to think logically and convince herself that it was just coincidence, but a part of her was sure Victoria knew it. Never trust the little ones, even if they are still babies, they usually know the most.

However, the woman appreciated the silent company of the girl, who would usually follow her everywhere for as long as she thought fit. Even clients got used to seeing the girl clinging to her grandmother's hand when she made her deliveries. It was strange how the simple sound of her _pasitos_ following hers could reassure the older woman.

 

 

 

Many times she had heard her parents complain about the adolescence stage and her own mother had told her that when she had offspring she would understand it. At first she assumed that she would have to suffer with her daughter, but Coco had been quiet, except for the times when she had caught her listening to music. But now, Imelda wondered how much she owed her parents to having to deal with the adolescence of her granddaughters. Especially the older one.

Elena was not so much trouble since her only rebellion was to arrive a little later than she was allowed to when she was visiting that Franco boy.

Victoria on the other hand, was, in the opinion of the majority (especially Imelda), the real challenge.

At first glance, the eldest daughter of the Rivera was a serious and distant girl who did not like to waste her time on things she considered useless; that's why it was logical that when talking about rebellion, the last person someone would think about was her. But Victoria knew well how to get anyone to go crazy, without needing to say a single word.

She would ignore the twins long enough for them to finish doing what she wanted, disobey the orders of her parents when they asked her to do something in a certain way, and she would do them in her own way. Even Rosita was the victim of the young woman's silent and judgmental gaze.

However, Imelda seemed to be the favorite target of the teenager, who, unlike the whole family, was the only one brave enough to challenge the dreaded matriarch.

When Imelda ordered something, Victoria would stare at her for a couple of seconds, challenging her with her gaze. When Imelda imposed a new rule, Victoria would remain silent and avoid looking at her until the older woman gave up. Even when she spoke directly to her, Victoria would simply respond with a sign, silently.

The silent wars between the matriarch and her granddaughter had become frequent and increasingly intense.

If she was honest with herself, a part of Imelda was impressed and proud of her _niña_. It was refreshing and almost fun to have someone who was not afraid of her.

 

 

 

As the years settled more and more in her, Imelda thanked the constant company of her entire family, especially her older granddaughter, who at her young age had learned almost all the tricks her grandmother had to offer and had even invented her own, as she demonstrated when intimidating her sister's boyfriend as effectively as Imelda had done with Julio so many years ago.

Victoria was shaping up little by little as the next great head of the family and her grandmother could not be more proud of it even if she tried. She did not like to think about death, but Imelda knew that she was not getting younger and it was comforting to know that when her time came, Victoria would be ready to relieve her.

She loved the evenings when her granddaughter sat next to her, always silent, and read for hours while Imelda finished doing whatever she was doing. Over the years she had developed a special connection with her girl and both seemed to understand perfectly the mood of the other. Of course, that did not prevent the constant silent wars they held, but both had long since accepted that they enjoyed them.

 

 

 

She had never been particularly fond of physical contact and public displays of affection; but on her deathbed, Imelda had dropped all her barriers, knowing that it would probably be the last time she could show affection to her family in this world.

Her brothers had spent much of the afternoon with her, remembering the times when the three of them were kids and ran through their parents' house. Rosita had thanked her for receiving her in her family, even though they did not share ties of any kind. Coco stayed by her side almost all day and Julio, as always, had remained behind her, supporting her silently. Elena and her now husband, Franco, had also said goodbye to her and her granddaughter had cried openly next to her grandmother.

But there was a person whose absence had not gone unnoticed by Imelda.

It was not until later, while the others were busy, that Imelda heard the creak of the door as it opened and saw the silent figure of Victoria enter the room, closing the door behind her again.

Neither of them said anything, but when their eyes met, they both understood each other's message.

_"I'm leaving"_

_"Not yet"_

_"I can’t do anything and you can’t either"_

_"I wasn’t trying to "_

Imelda smiled at her and extended her arms, allowing Victoria to cling to her as she used to when she was a baby. It had been so long since she had held her that way, and while her _niña_ silently rested her head on her shoulder, Imelda felt that her whole life had been worth it.

She managed to get her daughter and her family out, lived long enough to see how that family of four expanded to nine, formed a business that would keep them afloat for generations, saw her granddaughters grow, she was present at Elena's wedding and she witnessed the wonderful human being that Victoria had become, who was the living portrait of Imelda, at least in attitude.

-I can’t do it- Victoria whispered suddenly

-You can- Imelda answered

-I'm not as strong as you-

-You don’t have to be, I'll be with you even if you don’t see me-

-I'll never manage to direct them as you did-

-Then do it your way-

-I will miss you-

-No more than I will miss YOU-

 

 

 

 

Imelda Rivera had only had a nervous breakdown four times: when she went into labor, when her husband left, when her granddaughters were born and now, when she approached the family reunions department to pick up .... she didn’t even want to ... she couldn’t pronounce her name. She refused to believe she was there so soon.

And yet, there she was, unconscious and bony. The older woman approached her recently deceased granddaughter and when the guards left them alone, she took her in her arms, waiting for her to wake up. Even in her skeleton form, her girl still looked so beautiful and almost innocent while she was asleep.

Imelda would have smiled if it was not because it was too early for Victoria to be there.

The younger woman growled and moved in her arms, slowly opening her beautiful, huge eyes to look at the world to which she now belonged. Oh the curious things about life and death. The first thing Victoria saw when she opened her eyes to the world of the living was her grandmother's face; and now that she opened her eyes for the first time to the world of the dead, the first thing she saw was the same face that, although skeletal, retained its warmth.

They looked at each other for a long moment, silently communicating and in her mind, Imelda marveled at the ease with which they did it, as if they had not spent years separated by death.

-abuela... I didn’t make it- Victoria whispered finally

-shhh ... you did excellent- assured the older woman.

-I missed you abuela-

-No more than I missed you niña-

Imelda knew that the death of her granddaughter would shake the family, both in the world of the living and the dead. But part of her was happy to have her by her side again. In life she had become used to her silent company to such an extent that when she arrived to the world of the dead it had taken her a while to realize why the silence there was so overwhelming.

Yes, it was sooner than she had anticipated and that broke her heart, but at that moment, while holding her _bebita_ in her arms again, she knew that everything would be fine in the end, the silence would no longer be empty.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No words for this one.

Franco Torres was always a quiet and a little shy man. He did not like to raise his voice when it was not necessary and rarely interfered in matters that were not his concern. He lived under the idea that _cada quién pa’ su rancho_. That's why he has never been good with women.

At 25, he had only had one girlfriend and they didn’t even love each other, they had only date for a while so their respective families stopped bothering them. And if he was honest with himself, he liked being single.

Of course, that was until he moved to Santa Cecilia and entered the shoe store of the Rivera family.

Franco had always worn the boots that his grandfather inherited. They made him feel that he was still with him even after years of passing away. But with the years they were wearing out more and more until the imminent thing happened: they ended tearing up. Franco had refused to let anyone repair them for fear they would be harmed more, but the Rivera family had an impeccable reputation and he figured it was worth a try.

He entered the shoe shop a little doubtful and was amazed to see so many shoes on the shelves. In front of him was a young woman around his age, who was staring at him with penetrating brown eyes and a slight frown. Franco felt something strange in his chest as he looked back, unable to move.

He stood there for a long moment until the woman cleared her throat and crossed her arms, pulling him out of his trance.

-Can I help you or will you just stand there? -

-I'm sorry, _señorita_ \- Franco said, feeling his cheeks turn red -I need a repair-

-of what?-

-A pair of boots-

-Boots? My sister is the one who takes care of it, but she's not here. You can leave them and as soon as she returns I will give them to her- said the tall woman while looking at him impassively

-Thank you, _señorita_ \- he answered, putting his boots on the counter

\- How old are they? They look very worn - the woman exclaimed as she leaned down to look at them better through her glasses

-They were my grandfather’s, they must be about fifty years old-

- _Reliquia familiar_? – she asked

-something like that-

The woman nodded solemnly and took the boots carefully, placing them in a box before taking a paper, writing something on it and sticking the note to the box.

-my sister will return tomorrow, so they should be ready for Thursday, _señor_...-

-Franco, Franco Torres- he said and extended his hand.

The woman looked at him a few seconds before taking his hand and shaking it.

Franco felt his hand burning as the stoic woman's hand touched his. After giving her a few more details and paying an advance, Franco left the store with a receipt, a promise to retrieve his grandfather's boots and his heart beating as if he had run a marathon.

 

He spent the next few days looking forward to picking up his boots and being able to see again the beautiful woman who had occupied his thoughts ever since. Maybe she was cold and stoic but there was something in her eyes that had captivated Franco.

 

However, when the day finally arrived and he entered the store, the tall woman in glasses was not there. In her place was a shorter woman, with her hair tied in a low mote and whose expression was softer than the other woman’s.

-Good afternoon, can I help you? - She asked and smiled

-I'm here to pick up a pair of boots- Franco answered, looking around

-In whose name?-

-Franco Torres-

-oh! Family relics! They gave me a lot of work- the woman laughed tenderly as she took out a box and put it on the counter.

Franco thanked her and paid the rest of the money before leaving a little disillusioned.

 

After that day, Franco returned every now and then to the shoe store, hoping to see the woman with beautiful and penetrating eyes. Victoria, as her younger sister, Elena, had told him, with whom she had a beautiful friendship and soon he did not have to invent excuses, but simply visit his friend.

As time passed, Franco realized that Elena was the one that cared for people whose shoe problems were boots. That was her specialty. However, hope is the last thing that dies and he was waiting to meet Victoria.

He did it a couple of times, and the more time he spent with Elena and consequently, in the shoe store, he began to understand the strange way in which the older daughter of the Riveras seemed to communicate.

Victoria was the complete opposite of her sister. While Elena spoke kindly with all the customers who entered, Victoria took a much more serious stance and only spoke to them when necessary. When Elena seemed to have a permanent smile on her tender face, Victoria kept her beauty bathed in a cold expression of indifference.

Both seemed opposite poles, but at the same time they were the same. Neither of them would let anyone speak to them in a bad way and it was obvious that they were skilled in the art of using shoes as weapons as their grandmother (although Franco would later learn that Victoria was also skilled in the use of real weapons).

 

 

Time passed, and Franco Torres left aside his childhood crush on Victoria Rivera.

Her younger sister had won his affection with several years of friendship and little by little he fell in love with her. It was only a matter of time before he asked her to be his girlfriend and later his wife.

 

The years passed and Franco was surrounded by a loving family. His wife was the most beautiful woman in the world and his three children, though naughty, were his greatest treasure. He had learned with pleasure the art of making shoes and had accepted each and every one of the conditions of the Rivera family.

At this point, he had learned to live with all of them and had a good relationship. But perhaps the most surprising for the two involved was the one he had with his sister-in-law.

Obviously, Victoria never found out about his old crush on her, and Franco would never confess it. There was no point in talking about something that had died so many years ago, not to mention how uncomfortable it would be for both of them.

From the moment he began his relationship with Elena, Victoria had made it very clear that if he hurt her, she would have no hesitation in hurting him. And Franco was more than in agreement, because he loved Elena with all his heart and if one day he made the mistake of hurting her, he would surrender himself to the claws of his angry sister-in-law.

What he did not know until that moment, was that his wife's older sister was not only adept at threats and sarcasm, but also at the physical use of weapons. Real weapons, not shoes. She knew how to throw a knife or to fire a gun. He never asked why.

That's why he never thought he would get along so well with the woman who seemed to hate him so much.

When there was no one around, Victoria would make sarcastic comments about him, but they were somehow comical, almost like a sister teasing her younger brother. And he had learned to play along.

Soon, Victoria's comments were followed by an absurd refrain and both shared looks that clearly said (at least to them): "I won" "just for this time". And Franco appreciated the quiet jokes Victoria made.

 

Despite so many years and the fact that he had no longer a crush in her, Franco could never overcome the impact of Victoria's gaze. There was something in her eyes that made her gaze too penetrating, as if just looking at him, she knew some secret that even he didn’t knew he was saving.

And apparently he was not the only one who thought so. His eldest son, Berto, had once commented that his aunt's look seemed strange to him.

-strange in what way mijo? - He asked

-I don’t know, it's as if she always knew that I'm going to do something before I even think about it-

-Are you going to do something? -

-No, just ... that's how it feels-

-I understand mijo. Well, your aunt has always had that look since I met her-

-Has she ever looked at you like that? -

-of course! Many times, really, especially when she thinks I'm going to do something silly-

-Why does Tia Victoria always think we're stupid? -

-She doesn’t, she just expects a lot from us as a family-

-And?-

-And it makes her sad when you and your siblings fight or break things or are rude-

Berto looked down and was silent for a long time while his father went back to work. It was rare that the boy stayed that way, but apparently, he had a lot to think about. The only thing that made him raise his head was when his younger brother, Enrique, went behind his aunt to the workshop.

Franco smiled when his eldest son approached the two figures and asked his aunt for permission to stay and learn to do huaraches as well. It was strange how, without saying anything, Victoria managed to teach both children how to make huaraches (the simplest type) in just two days.

 

 

 

Franco Torres Rivera had always been a man of few words because of his shyness. But years of coexistence with his sister-in-law, whom he had learned to see as a sister, had taught him that silence wasn’t necessarily a weakness. It could be one of the greatest virtues of the human being.

But now, as he embraced his wife and children as four men lowered Victoria's coffin, he doubted that he could ever appreciate silence again as he used to do. There would be no more silent wars, no simple afternoons of silent understanding. Nothing.

Everything was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepita loves her little babbling thing

She had been doing this for years. She shook her head again when one of the alebrijes motioned to follow him. It was the fifth time she refused, when would they understand?

It was not that Pepita didn’t want to cross the barrier between the world of the living and the world of the dead. She knew she had to do it sooner or later, and as her Imelda grew older, she knew she should hurry.

But she couldn’t yet.

She had no idea how to look.

The spiritual guides chose their appearance when they crossed to the world of the dead for the first time, and they must be sure because once they crossed, they couldn’t change it. They could get more size or wings, or new colors, but the basic design was the same.

There were a few alebrijes who had not chosen their appearance so the world itself designated them one. And that was something that Pepita was not willing to allow. No one would choose for her how she should look.

She stretched before turning and away from the edge between the two worlds, ignoring the grunts and calls of the alebrijes. She won’t join them today.

 

It was not unusual for her to spend days lying on the edge, or walking around, or just doing cat things, but she knew that her Imelda always had a bowl of milk ready for her when she came back, so she did not worry about going hungry.

That night she returned to the Rivera farm when it was already quite late. She entered through the door that led to the kitchen and walked directly to the corner where her Imelda always left her food. But she stopped abruptly a few steps away.

There was nothing.

Not a bowl of milk, not a lot of fish, not even the leftovers of the food the _niña_ Rosita used to leave for her. Nothing. Had her Imelda not remembered her? How long had she been away so they would forget about her?

Pepita made accounts in her head. Three weeks. It was by far the most she had been gone. Perhaps her Imelda thought that this time she would not return.

She went to the workshop, where she knew that her Imelda spent most of her time. But she was not there. There was no one.

Pepita thought a little. She had not seen any Rivera, which was strange considering that there were many and everyone had a favorite place in the hacienda. Imelda was not in the workshop, thing one and thing two were not making one of their strange machines. The _niña_ Rosita was not in the kitchen, her Coco was not in the garden and the dancer she had married was not in sight either.

Then she heard it. A strange sound that didn’t belong to the strange orchestra that the Rivera composed. A new sound that Pepita didn’t recognize at first until she paid better attention. A cry, upstairs.

The tabby cat ran up the stairs, ready to find out who was in the house while her family was away.

When she reached the top, she found the whole family around ... something. What could be so important that the whole family was piled up?

Pepita meowed to attract the attention of her Imelda. The woman smiled at her before looking back at whatever it was she was seeing.

Pepita looked at each and every Rivera, hoping to get their attention. Rosita was the only one who even turned to see her. However, it was her Coco that attracted the attention of the cat.

She remembered that her Imelda's girl had gained a lot of weight, so much so that she needed help walking, she could not bend over and her belly looked like a ball. But now, as she smiled at her family, Pepita noticed that the girl was as thin as before. How could she have lost weight in just three weeks?

Then there it was again. The crying that had brought her there.

Pepita got between the legs of thing one to be able to penetrate the circle that formed the Rivera, but stopped abruptly when she saw the object of admiration of her humans.

What was that?

 

She spent the next few months observing the strange thing from a safe distance.

It looked like a very small human, drooling, who moved strangely and didn’t even seem to know how to talk and it spent the day sleeping, which Pepita didn’t like because the rest of the family was helping and this ... drooling thing only slept.

Bravely and curiously she jumped up to the bed of her Imelda, where the tiny thing was lying down. She was definitely a small human. Pepita noticed that it was a little bigger than she thought and if she looked closely, she looked like her Imelda.

Pepita sniffed at her and watched her, tilting her head a little while the little babbling thing looked at her, copying her movements. Pepita meowed and the little human stammered something in response. Maybe this little thing was not so bad after all.

 

 

Pepita watched from the corner while the _niña_ Rosita cooked and spoke at the same time with the little babbling thing. The tabby cat had learned that her name was Victoria, that she was a baby and that she was the daughter of her Coco. But she liked better “little babbling thing”

She still didn’t understand why the little babbling thing needed to be carried everywhere. Like, she just had to walk and that’s all. It was not so difficult. She also didn’t understand why she liked to babble and make big humans try to guess what she wanted, why didn’t she just ask them and that's it?

There were many things that Pepita didn’t understand about the little babbling thing, but her Imelda and her Coco looked happy with her, so Pepita accepted that a little babbling thing was part of the family.

 

 

Pepita grunted as she returned to the Rivera house. She had gone to visit the barrier of the worlds as she usually did, but apparently the alebrijes considered that it had taken a long time to decide, so the rumor that she would never be alebrije began to spread.

The cat had turned around and left quickly with anger burning her stomach. What did they care if she still didn’t decide to cross?

She entered the kitchen and half of her anger left.

Her Victoria was lying on the floor with crayons perfectly placed next to her, painting and scribbling something on a white sheet. It had been a long time since Pepita had stopped calling her a babbling little thing and had chosen to call her her Victoria, or her _bebita_.

The little 3-year-old remained silent the whole time she was drawing. Pepita had grown accustomed to the fact that her baby was a girl of few words and quite independent to be so ... small. The tabby cat meowed to let her know she was there and without wasting any time she went under the girl's arm to look at the draw.

It was a huge green patch with wings and what looked like horns. The animal's hind legs resembled those of a bird while the front legs were those of a feline. It also had a long tail and yellow spots all over the body.

\- Do you like it? - asked her _bebita_. Pepita was about to meow until she realized that the question wasn’t for her.

-is beautiful Vicita-answered her Imelda.

The little girl stood, taking the cat in her arms to give the drawing to her grandmother so that she could see it better. Pepita liked it when her baby was carrying her, she liked to feel her plump arms squeezing her carefully so she won’t to drop her. Her baby was very careful and responsible and Pepita was proud of her.

-Is it an alebrije? - Imelda asked while analyzing the drawing

-It's Pepita- Victoria answered. The cat meowed surprised.

-Pepita is not a giant jaguar with horns or wings, nor is she green, dear- Imelda said and her _bebita_ answered with what would become one of Pepita's favorite phrases.

-Who says?  She can be whatever she wants-

Pepita wasn’t sure if she had ever felt so proud. Did her baby really think she could be that amazing? Well, she will be. Everything for her precious baby.

 

 

It had been years since she had crossed the barrier and claimed her alebrije form and never regretted it. Even now, while guiding her recently deceased Imelda to the world of the dead, Pepita was glad she had chosen that look.

She was sure than when she saw her, so large, imposing and elegant, her Imelda had recognized her as her faithful cat. And she was also sure that Imelda immediately thought of the sweet and silent girl who had inspired her alebrije aspect.

The baby was right. Pepita was a giant green jaguar with wings and horns after all.

 

 

No one ever said that being a family guardian would be an easy job. Pepita knew that the Rivera family would be difficult, from the moment her Imelda had cried for whole nights with her in her arms when the noodle man had left.

When her Coco had escaped to dance and listen to music, Pepita knew that she should watch her in case she got into trouble or if the dancer tried to hurt her.

When the _niña_ Rosita had lost her parents' house because of a fire in which three houses were set on fire, Pepita had led her to the Rivera house, making her Imelda accept her as part of the family.

 

But she had not the faintest idea of what to do now, as she watched her Victoria becoming the babbling little thing again little by little. Her Coco put cold rags on her head while her Elena tried to calm her down.

Pepita knew what was happening. That's why she was there.

She had come when she felt that a Rivera would cross to the other side, as she did with her Imelda, with thing one and thing two and with the _niña_ Rosita.

But she didn’t imagine that she would have to guide her baby girl to the other side so soon. No, not her.

For the first time in all her years as a spiritual guide, Pepita didn’t want to guide the dying soul. She wanted her Victoria to stay in this world for longer, she deserved it. But she also knew that she couldn’t do anything but wait for the inevitable to happen and guide the soul of her _bebita_ to the world of the dead.

 

 

She didn’t expect her Victoria to recognize her immediately. The twins and Rosita had to hear from Imelda's mouth that Pepita was…well, Pepita. Even her Imelda had taken a few minutes to realize it was her.

But not Victoria.

The woman in glasses had recognized her the instant she laid eyes on her and Pepita was surprised when her little girl reached out to stroke her head.

Her Victoria was as intelligent and brave as she had always been in life and as bad as she felt to think it, Pepita was starting to believe that her death was not so bad after all. Her little babbling thing was with her again and although she couldn’t do much in the world of the living, Pepita would protect her with all her being in that of the dead.

The huge cat bent down to allow Victoria to climb on her back and be able to take her to meet the rest of the deceased Rivera.

Yes, her baby was home.


End file.
